


Septic Symphonies: Or How Mark and Jack Joined Forces to Make Music and Make-out

by princeofpomey



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Jack as a musical boi that could make it rain, M/M, Mark is a poor boi, Music, Singing, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9421361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeofpomey/pseuds/princeofpomey
Summary: Mark Fischbach is a poor, prideful 27 year old who needs a get rich quick fix to his problems, and better friends apparently.Sean McLoughlin is a happy go lucky 26 year old superstar with a bank account that's too full and a bed that's too empty.When the lead singer of Sean's band decides that he needs to "go solo and find himself", and with a world tour on the horizon, The Clovers are 70 shades of desperate. And that's when their manager (God bless Robin) proposes a good publicity, amazing press all around solution- a Talent Search, sweetened by a $20,000 dollar cash prize. Mark's always been a fan of sweet things (and drummers). And Sean is drawn to this brown haired Adonis with the voice of an angel.





	1. The Beginning Riff

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya guys! This is my first OFFICIAL fanfiction, and my first multi-chapter. In the past I'd always been too shy to post, but this idea was too good to pass up and I adore Mark and Jack and wanted to contribute to the community! I'd also like to dedicate this fic to one of my best friends who helped me create this AU, here it is you dork. Hope you all enjoy this first chapter!

Mark Edward Fischbach- he’s beauty, he’s grace, he’s desperately in need of a solid source of income other than his meager bartender pay check because dear God a man can   
only live on ramen noodles for so long. You’d think that after the debacle that was Mark’s college experience, he would have gotten over the whole ‘disgusting sleep schedule and 75 cent dinner’ fad that students go through, and yet here he was- years after dropping out of college and attending a few bartending classes and he was still reliving a personal worst nightmare. There were only two saving graces: he didn’t have to worry about rent (a perk to living with two other guys) and that no matter what his life was like, he was still cute, and that’s what really matters let’s be honest here. It’s a wonder he hadn’t tried to apply at the strip club on Maple Avenue, considering the pole dance classes he took a few years back. Maybe he could quit his job, get a sugar daddy and live with him in his 40 million dollar mansion. Or hey, he was cute and looked better then all of his friends naked (Shut up Ethan!) so why not become a porn star. Then there was always the more realistic route- become a jewel thief, snatch up some fancy diamond, and pawn it in Mexico. Mark was utterly and truly desperate (but definitely not desperate to move back in with his mom- yet). There’s something truly pitiful about being a broke 27 year old in America- Los Angeles no less. And sure, he could move somewhere less expensive, but he had worked too hard as it was to get there in the first place and he couldn’t give up on Ethan and Tyler (and it also may be due to not wanting to hear his dear mother’s “I told you so”, his pride wouldn’t be able to handle it and- I can not believe you just said I had a big ego! We’re friends Tyler I thought that meant something in this day and age you butt trumpet). Yeah…. This sucks quite a bit. Like a large “quite a bit”. All he needed was a bit of luck, a sign that would let him know that things were looking up for him. And where else would one look for such a sign other than the internet. 

[Sidenote: Craigslist is a dark, scary place that he should never venture to again] 

It’s been two hours and nothing, absolutely nothing. Maybe this really was pointless, Mark was gonna die with not a penny in his pocket, keeled over a bowl of Ramen noodles. Ugh, or maybe he was gonna die from these annoying YouTube ads- a singing competition you say? Auditions take place in Los Angeles, 45 minutes from his apartment? 20,000 dollars in cash for the Grand Prize winner? Well, Mark had been known to carry a tune in his day.

“See you next week Mr. McLoughlin- whoever you are.”


	2. D Flat and Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People are sad, Jack is emotional (and kinda horny), and Mark appears??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sure some of you noticed but I somehow made two different works for this story so some of you may not have seen chapter 2 so here it is! Also, Chapter 3 will be up soon so yay.

“ I… I can’t listen to this anymore.”  
“ Sean please wait- I can expla-”  
“No Carter! I don’t want to hear it- we’ve been through too much together! we built a whole world, did amazing things! I ate your second rate meatloaf- God, I let you make out with me in a funeral home!”  
“ You can be mad at me all you want, hell I wouldn’t exactly block a punch or two if you’re really that heated- but calling my Savory- Oh- So- Satisfying- Meatloaf Surprise second rate, well those are fightin’ words McLoughlin!”  
“ Oh don’t give me that CeCe, your meatloaf is about as satisfying as your dick was- and that is to say, not very.”  
“You trick ass bit-”

The resounding sound of a record scratching brought the two men out of their arguing, two pairs of blue eyes rounding on the young black women resting in the plane seat two rows down, fingers elegantly twirling a drumstick.

“Gentlemen, I know things are… rough right now but if you could maybe not act like drunk, petty, toddlers that’d be great thanks.”

And there she was, eleganza and queen of the ‘God-I’m-judging-you-so-hard’ eyebrow, L.A. native Mari Danvers who made the (un)fortunate decision to move to Ireland, happened upon two losers who needed a bass guitarist for their band, and in the span of a few years become a rockstar along with her fellow members of The Clovers. And then of course there’s the traitorous excuse for an ex-band member (Really Sean?), Carter Tross- co founder of The Clovers, Sean’s best friend from college and until a month ago, convenient booty call. But if Sean had know that the douche would pull a stunt like this, he would have called it quits much earlier- saved himself from the weird not quite romantic attachment (and now heartbreak) he felt. Sure there were warning signs, but to think that Carter would decided to go solo and leave Sean behind to go smoke weed in the mountains and sing crappy country music- the bile was already rising. And here they were, just being told that they’d be going on their first international tour and in one swoop of Carter’s ugly signature, everything was absolutely ruined. Carter was their lead rhythm guitarist with great riff skills, and an ability to leave the crowd in a lustful stupor, not to mention that a large part of the fanbase was in love with him so a lot of people not even bothering to buying tickets was pretty much inevitable. Now the smartest thing for the band to do would be for them to act as usual during the tour, release a statement that Tross was leaving, and wrap it all up in a nice little press conference. But no, Mister “Let’s Remake Woodstock” had demanded that he be let go immediately stating that “The toxicity of this cruel modern world was gonna kill him if The Man kept him there any longer”- pretentious dumbass. 

“ Sean, for what it’s worth I do feel bad about leaving. I just can’t do this anymore it’s just not who I am anymore. I’ll still be doing music so we’ll still see each other, and even if I wasn’t I’d go to every show to cheer you on, I refuse to let you out of my life and especially like this. You mean way to much to me for something like that, no matter what happens from today on. Sean I lo-”

“ Don’t you dare finish that sentence, don’t you dare do that to him. Yes, I know he means a lot to you, but don’t do that to him Carter.” 

Mari looked up once again, an unrecognizable look on her face and hands clenched by her sides. Sean risked a glance up, first giving Mari a reassuring smile then letting his eyes trace over Carter- platinum blonde hair he could remember grabbing onto when things felt too good, blue eyes he was so used to seeing clouded over and dilated that seeing them any other way made him slightly uncomfortable, firm stomach and strong arms that had Sean had come to associate with awkward cuddles and ravenous wall sex. These two had fell apart way longer than a month ago.

“Maybe.. this is for the best. We just don’t- not like we used to anyway. I’ll miss you. See you, and good luck out there.”

“-Sean! Sean William McLoughlin!”

The Irishmen jumped with a start. Right, Talent Search thingy or whatever, something he should be taking seriously. And of course Mari was giving him Look #24, dark brown eyes shining in the West coast sun as they bore into Sean’s baby blues. He knew whatever he said wasn’t going to convince her that he was 100% fine, and at this point he didn’t really feel like trying. In truth, he felt a little better and becoming completely absorbed in his music had certainly helped but the wound was still a bit too tender for his taste. And Sean may not be the stereotypical rock star that based half of his decisions on his dick, but there was something nice about the comfort of another warm body next to him especially one with nice muscles and- oh hello there Mister Kinda Short Kinda Tan and Handsome. Mark Fischbach huh? Not bad, he was just a tad taller than Sean, just from the way that red flannel fit the guy was obviously ripped, carried his guitar like a pro, and that brown (black?) hair and light brown eyes. Not to mention- oh my God this man has the voice of an angel. It was deep and rolling, sending harsh shivers up and down Sean’s arm and left him with a tingling aftershock. From the way Mari was smirking at him, he most likely had quite the look on his face (not like he could exactly help it after an experience like that). A look that ended up staying with him through the rest of the tryouts, all the way to his hotel room, both of his showers, and dinner (but that could also be attributed to the double cheeseburger and cake he had). He’d have to start going through the viable applicants tomorrow afternoon not like he’d have a hard time picking if he was being honest with himself. He feels bad about the way he’s doing this and he might be using his libido as a factor as much as he hates to, considering how he he looks down on others who do things like this daily. Didn’t he just say he doesn’t think with his dick? Self-Contradiction at its finest, just great. But hey, the guy also had an amazing voice and serious guitar skills. Jeez, what was wrong with him? 

Mark Fischbach…. Welcome to The Clovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp that was my re-post of Chapter on the original work I made! Tada  
> Like I said, Chapter 3 should be up tonight if my computer decides to be nice to me and not mess up for once. Hope you guys liked this chapter and continue reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I know, this first chapter is super short but school has left me ridiculously busy. Luckily, things have calmed down and I'll be able to write longer chapters and (hopefully) post weekly. Hope you enjoyed Septic Symphonies and decide to stick around for the rest of this adventure!


End file.
